Sometimes shit happens. Hey, it's not always your day, it's alright. One moment you're riding high, soaring above these mud-riddled plains with the king of mercs by your side, another, you're running far away from the crater he blew himself up in. Y...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
heres the stupid moron himself
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
and heres mr newmaker lounging about
anyway, new chapter set sail abosh, have fun
"..."
"... Ya think if I'm quiet enough, maybe I could...?"
Buzz...
The silent hallways of Babel, the bowels of Rhodes Island, slithered on and on, churning at corners and flopping into intersections. Quiet was the night, and lonely was its wake. Footsteps rang in the hollow ceiling pipes, carrying on and on through the whole superstructure. Someone was making the grueling wander back home.
"... No? Not a chance?"
Anton sneaked from door to door, crossed paths from corner to corner. His attentive ears kept perking at the slightest of sounds, sharpened enough through the years to pick out even the most miniscule of changes in air frequencies. Each blurt of electrical spark-vomit that erupted across the landship couldn't go unnoticed. His brightly green Feline eyes flicking across the hallway were everything one would see in the hollow darkness, were they to stick their head out of their room and catch Mr Newmaker in the act.
A lazily buzzing blade followed his flimsy whims, crossing a floating path through the air behind. Its eye-gem, half lidded, painted a clear, non-verbal picture of the spirit's unamused nature.
"... Yer such a downer, ya know? Twisting ya gob off, ya don't even know if she's sleeping or nah. My bet, she's snoozin' at the desk. Freezin' her ass off, snoozin' softly at the desk." Anton fell to the floor after a particularly daring jump from one corridor to the other. "Ow."
